Liam Barr

We keep part of ourselves back.
We call it sensible.

A little effort for the work.
A little attention held for later.

But half-hearted work still takes the whole hour.
The clock does not move differently.

We cannot give everything to everything.
Some things need a clean no.
Not a reluctant yes.

Wholeheartedness is not constant intensity.
It is being present for what we chose.

The hour passes either way.
We might as well be there for it.

I knew someone was having a hard time.
I wanted to say something without pretending I understood it.

I wrote:
“Your experience is yours.
The pain it brings is shared.”

Then I sat with my thumb over send.
Nothing in me became more certain.
A better version never arrived.

Eventually I pressed it.

The phone buzzed a few minutes later.
I was nervous to look.

The reply thanked me.
No mention on how I had worded the message.

We never know what our words will mean to someone.
Sending them is the only way to find out.

We take on the task but keep listening for footsteps.
Someone might come and take it over.

So we work slowly.
Not quite refusing.
Not quite committed either.

Every interruption feels promising.
Every delay leaves room for relief to arrive.

We call this laziness.
But laziness arrived after the yes.

We agreed before asking whether we wanted the work at all.
Then we spent hours hoping someone would undo our answer.

We did not need someone else to say yes.
We needed to say no.